Dirty Minds
by MarinaEverlasting
Summary: "It's an universal law. Some food, girls can't eat freely around guys, and Dante knows that better than anyone. ... ...Damn abstinence." Just what the title implies. Minds are very dangerous weapons in times of 'drought'.


**Dirty Minds**

* * *

Oh, the way her cherry red lips closed around it was sinful. She isn't hasty, as per usual. She takes her time.

Slowly.

A frustrated hiss threatens to make its way out his throat, but he fights the urge.

She thrusts it in and out her mouth, eyes closed, tongue doing wonders. Tasting. Teasing. If he squints his eyes hard enough, he can see how well sweat made the thin white blouse cling, emphasizing every curve of her lovely body.

She sucks it greedily, occasionally emitting loud sounds when she pulls it out of her mouth. He is certain she does that on purpose.

He wonders how much the brunette would swallow while he brazenly stares at her, now that neither of them aren't looking at him -thankfully-, even though it was always difficult to escape without any of them noticing something.

Fuck.

The black-haired huntress' companion asks her for a taste, voice breathy and low.

A vein twitches in his temple. Did he miss something about those two? The blue-eyed beauty keeps murmuring soft pleasantries at her, trying to make her indulge into her desires. It's interesting to see her, then, pull it out her mouth, slowly, and let the blonde move closer to it and swirl her eager tongue around the tip. Eyes flutter shut as she closes her lips around the top, nipping at it. It's interesting, indeed, to think about how many times he had done the same trick the she-devil has done, pleading the huntress with the same puppy eyes, and how many times she had said 'no'.

What makes him different from her?

What a bitch.

As he watches, his breath becomes ragged.

Goddammit. _You're sick, man. It's just a damn popsicle. They aren't making out in front of you._

He scolds himself and remembers to keep the snake inside its cage. _You don't wanna ruin it, do you?_

But still... What would they feel like...? Both at the same time...?

And then he thinks about Nero, the punk kid from Fortuna, he who is already tied to a prude young girl, despite his young age. So young, so naïve. He mustn't have had the time to even experience the joys of being single, of not having feelings attached to anyone and be able to take tastes from one and another. Dante wouldn't be surprised if he someday found him already waiting for a child.

_You don't know what you're missing, kid._

How sad.

The she-devil manages to break a small part of it, and with a smirk, she chews at it and then swallows it in front of the huntress who didn't look amused at all. Possessively, she moves it away from her smirking companion, and keeps it to herself. She wraps her lips around it again.

Ha. It's funny. Really funny. If only she could see herself through his eyes...

That... … Ha. That would be very awkward.

"What are you looking at?"

Only years and years of experience as a hunter kept him from jumping at the sudden question, lost in his little dirty world. It was the soft, breathy voice of Trish, whose small wry smirk showed a red-tinted tongue. She must know already what was going on, but she asks it, anyway. She wants him to say it by himself. Her eyes look calculating, intense. The little Lady stopped sucking and licking for a moment to look up at him.

Speaking of awkward.

It's remarkable that they didn't notice before.

Blue and mismatched eyes look at him questioningly, accusingly.

They've never been the patient type of woman. They're silently asking him for an answer, and by the look on their faces, it has to be a good one.

With that, Dante decided, as he tried to stop his brain from sending any more blood to his other brain, that that would be the last day he would take his ladies out for a drink or a sundae. There would be no other choice for him than to go by himself, and it's a pity; the place serves the best sundaes of the city, he can tell.

Their bitchy, teasy company is always welcome. It's better than being alone.

It's obscene how his mind brings up images of them stroking him, how he can almost feel both their little hands wrapped around his aching flesh...

But no. He's not a horny teenager anymore, unable to control his urges. He knows it won't go that far, knows what is real and what is not. Of course, everything will remain as simple wishful thinking, coming from the dirty mind of a sexually frustrated man. He smirks, and feels both amused and distressed to find his erection didn't seem to be leaving soon.

However, he can't help but wonder if it would be too suicidal for him if he asks them to suck that popsicle again...

…

Oh, man.

He needs to get laid. Urgently.

"It's nothing." He expertly lies.

* * *

**A/N: ...About how sexual frustration can twist and corrupt even one of the most innocent things in this world; eat. A short, random fic I wrote a few days ago. While my friends and I were eating out, one of the guys I usually hang out with began to laugh his ass off as he watched us eat ice-cream. Needless to say he was a bit 'frustrated', having just split up with his girlfriend. He truly was needy, and seeing him like that gave me this... odd idea, and I just had to write it. We have the strangest of conversations... we even thought about hiring a hooker for him. He has it bad. We all have our bad days, and sexual frustration is a veeeeery bad thing. Dante says he is unlucky, and he is, but he spends most of his time with two sexy babes. That makes it up, even if it's only a little bit. How many guys (and women) would kill to be in his position, I wonder? We know Dante lost his innocence a loooong time ago; surely, he must have thought worse things about them...?**

**This is random. I know that already.**


End file.
